Disclaimer: I do not own HP.  I repeat, I do NOT own HP.  But, of course, you lot know this, right?  If not, whack yourself repeatedly in the head with a blunt object until you do.

Chapter 18 – Crosses We Carry

"I can't fucking take it anymore!"

Neville looked up and let out an "Eep" as a pair of glasses with black frames came flying at him.  He ducked down behind his table then peered over the top of it, staring wide-eyed at Harry.

Sitting on the nearby couch, Hermione leapt to her feet, book tumbling to the floor.

"Harry!"

Anyone who didn't know would have thought that her cry was because of his language but her wide brown eyes were focused on his green, which were hidden behind his nest of dark hair.  Thankfully.

Harry drew his lips back from his teeth in a snarl and stalked on past, storming up the stairs to the boys dormitories.  Hermione stared after him for a moment then snatched his glasses off the floor and charged up the steps after him, glad that the wards on them had not been remade.

When she reached the sixth year dorm, she eased the door open, peering inside.  Harry lay on his stomach atop his covers.  Medusa was perched in the small of his back, her dark eyes staring non-blinkingly at the bushy haired girl.

"Harry?" she queried, stepping into the room.

"Go away," came the gruff reply.

Hermione frowned and moved over to stand by the bed.  Medusa purred and tilted her head sideways to look at her.  The girl reached out her hand to pet the cat's head then slowly eased herself down onto the side of the bed.

"Harry," she murmured, her hand still on the cat's head.  "Harry, please talk to me."

The boy on the bed didn't stir and Hermione frowned.

"Harry, please…"

"G'way, Mione."

"I am not going to go away, Harry!" snapped Hermione, her hand falling from Medusa's head.  "I want to know what's going on."

"You want to know what's going on?" growled Harry, pushing himself up.  He turned about, legs folding up into Indian style as he faced her.  His hair fell over his eyes, which blazed bright green about the slitted pupil.  Hermione swore she saw the emerald green swirling with black.

Hermione hesitated for a moment then nodded.

"Okay then.  I'm tired of pretending everything's fine.  I'm tired of looking behind me to check if Dumbledore's following me, ready to hit me with that charm or whatever again.  And I'm tired of wearing those damned glasses and pretending that – as I said – everything's all spiffy and spit shine."

Hermione frowned and leaned over to place the glasses on the bureau of drawers by the bed.  When she leaned back, she looked Harry in the eyes, smiling tightly.

"I understand how you feel, Harry…"

"No," snapped Harry, shaking his head.  "No, you don't know, Mione.  You don't.  I think I'm going crazy.  I really do.  Either that or I'm going paranoid like Moody.  I keep expecting Dumbledore to hop out and cast that charm on me again.  He thinks I'm a threat, Mione.  He found out that I was an Heir of Slytherin and he decided it wasn't worth the risk to have me around.  You don't bloody understand."

"Then make me."

"Mione…"

"Harry, I'm your friend.  I want to help, if I can."

"Mione, you can't help.  The glasses…"  Harry looked at the dark frames on the bureau.  "…they were a marvelous idea.  But they feel – wrong now.  And you can't shadow me."

"Ethan could."

"Ethan has better things to do."  Harry ducked his head and said softly, "And he's got other things to worry about."

Hermione frowned.  This was news to her.  "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

Harry looked at her, his eyes now back to their normal emerald.  The thin black slit that was now his pupil widened slightly as he breathed, "You don't know?"

Hermione shook her head and Harry frowned.

"He didn't tell you?"

"No.  What?  Is it something I should know?"

Harry nodded and drew his wand, pointing it at the door and performing a Locking and an Anti-Eavesdropping Charm in quick sequence.  He then tucked it back up his sleeve and said, "I had a dream about two months ago.  Or should I say – and I loath to do it – a vision."

"A vision."  Hermione sounded skeptical.

Harry nodded and looked at her.  He held up a hand and said, "I know what your thinking.  I don't want to call it that either but that's all I can explain it to be."

"A vision," repeated Hermione.

Harry nodded and Hermione frowned.

"What was it about?"

"Me and Ethan."

"That explains a lot."

Harry scowled slightly then his face relaxed.  He sighed and said, "But it wasn't just us.  It was Voldemort.  And Malfoy Sr.  Malfoy too.  But that's not the part of it that scares me."

"What then?" asked Hermione, her voice tight.

Harry looked up at her, emerald orbs staring into her own, as he said softly, "What scares me is that Ethan and me, we – we don't look human anymore, Mione."

Hermione blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said.  In the dream we're both…pale.  Like chalk.  And we're taller.  Older.  I don't know how much.  But we're…how can I describe it?  We're both – different."

"How?" asked Hermione.

"Darker," replied Harry.  "Do you know that I can see people aura's now?"

"You can what?"

"See people's aura's.  It just suddenly came into being a few weeks after Ethan and me got to the Dursley's.  I got it under control when we went to the Burrow."

"And?"

"You're soft blue.  Gin's this sort of pulsing red.  Ron's pale green.  The twins are canary yellow.  Dumbledore's blue-green.  McGonagall's this odd looking orange.  Neville's gray with a black splotch.  Dean's pink.  Seamus' blue.  Lavender's…well, lavender.  Parvati's green.  Malfoy's blood red with a lot of black.  Shall I continue?"

"What about you and Ethan?" asked Hermione.

"Ethan's silver with black splotches.  I think the black splotches are were Voldemort's power has touched him, tainted him."

"And you?"

"Emerald.  Lot of black.  Hell of a lot of black.  More than Ethan."

"Why?  Wouldn't he have gotten a lot more exposure to Voldemort than you?" asked Hermione.

Harry smiled and applauded softly.  "Thank you for saying his name.  And yeah, he probably has.  I think all of that's from the failed Killing Curse."

"Oh.  What about this…dream?"

"Yeah.  About that dream…  We're darker.  Considerably.  And our aura's…even Malfoy's…"

"What?"

"They're black, Mione.  They're as black as Voldemort's.  All three of us.  Malfoy may be a ferrety little git, but I'd hate to see him in Voldemort's clutches."  He heaved a sigh and continued, "If my subconscious isn't just freaking me out, we've got trouble, Mione."

"We don't know that its not your subconscious…"

"That's just it!  We don't know.  We don't know if I'm seeing the future or if its my subconscious screwing with me.  We don't know, Mione, and I want to be careful.  I want to know what could possibly make me and Ethan follow Voldemort."

"He'd never," insisted Hermione.  "You know that."

"I know, I know," said Harry.  "That's what I don't get.  He'd never go to Voldemort again, I know he wouldn't.  And I know I'd never go.  Malfoy…I don't know.  Ethan thinks he sees what a monster his father is."

"Do you?"

"I won't believe it till I see it.  Until then I'll hold my judgment on Malfoy."

"That could be it."

"What?"

"Maybe Malfoy's the key.  Maybe if Voldemort gets him, he drags you and Ethan in too."

"That doesn't make any sense…"

"Malfoy's Ethan's nephew."

"Okay, now it makes sense…  Now we have to figure out how to keep it from happening."

"Talk to Malfoy?"

Harry frowned and said, "I'll need Ethan's help on that."

Hermione nodded.  "He might have to tell him."

"I don't know, Mione…"

"He's a Slytherin, Harry – no offense to you…"

"None taken."

"…and they stick together.  You saw them when Dumbledore said Professor Snape was dead."

"Yeah, I know.  Still…"

"Just see what Ethan says.  Try it, Harry."

"Who are you and what did you do with Hermione?"

Hermione punched the boy's arm and he smiled at her.

"Sorry," he said, "its just odd to hear you sort of defending Malfoy."

"It'll be that last."

"We'll see…"

"Shut up."

"Yes'm."

"And put your glasses back on."

"Mione…"

"Don't make me hex you."

"Oh fine…bint."

"Queer."

"MIONE!"

"Git."

"Poof."

"HEY!"

"Revenge is so very sweet."

"Slytherin."

"Shall I even provide a scathing reply to that?"

"You could."

"You mean call you a Mudblood."

Pause.

"Yes."

"Y'know I'd never do that.  And remember, Slytherin said he didn't hate Muggleborns.  His actions just got misinterpreted."

"I remember, I remember."

"Hmm."

Pause.

"Bint," said Harry.

"Git," replied Hermione with a challenging smirk.

"Mrow?" remarked Medusa.

"Shut up, Dusa."